


How to Woo a Tony in Less Than Ten Years

by betheflame



Series: Shorts & Drabbles 2020 [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/pseuds/betheflame
Summary: “Oh Lord Jesus, his mother, and all the saints, you are going to woo him, aren’t you.”Steve’s grin bordered on feral. “Why yes, Buck. I believe I am.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Shorts & Drabbles 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647499
Comments: 64
Kudos: 519





	How to Woo a Tony in Less Than Ten Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adoctoraday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/gifts).



> Stella asked for wooing. Hope this fits the bill. Thanks to Jeh and Marie for cheering/editing.
> 
> Incredible art at the end by Auggusst - check out their commission fees [here](https://auggusst-art.tumblr.com/commissions). Highly recommended and insanely quick turnaround.

“Steve.”

Nat said his name softly, as though she was making sure he was the only one who heard him.

Which is why he just set his jaw tighter and ignored her.

“Steve, he has no idea why you’re doing all of this.”

Steve surveyed Tony’s sleeping form and decided ignoring her would continue to be futile. “Doesn’t matter.”

She snorted so loudly he was convinced she’d wake the sleeping genius. “So you just want to keep pining hard enough to manifest a forest and, what, follow him around like an obedient puppy for the rest of his life?”

“He’s not interested in -”

“If you finish that sentence with ‘men’ or ‘me’ I will test out my new Bites on you,” she murmured.

“Serious commitment,” Steve finished instead and turned his head slightly to scowl at her. “And I am. If I can’t have everything, I don’t want anything, but someone has to take care of him, Nat.”

She ground her teeth so hard that his super-soldier hearing picked up on it. “Fine. You’re Barnes’ problem now. I tried.”

With that enigmatic statement, she stormed off and he heard her tell JARVIS to take the elevator to the gym.

Steve Rogers had been in love with Tony Stark for two years, one hundred and seventeen days, and approximately fourteen hours. During that time, he’d created an elaborate signal system with JARVIS to make sure that Tony was fed, watered, and rested as much as possible. He’d attended more fundraisers and political events than was required for Avengers business and had ended up on ninety-two Stark Industries business trips under the guise of “looking at art” or the only-kind-of-a-lie that Pepper asked him to.

Only kind of a lie because she often did, but in the hopes that he’d “make an honest man out of Tony”. To which he’d blush and stammer and do all the other things he normally did when someone caught him off guard about his emotions.

Tactical genius, personal disaster; the Steve Rogers brand since the 1930s.

What he said to Nat was true - Steve wanted marriage and picket fences and happily ever afters. He wanted to teach a kid how to throw a proper punch and maybe dance with his husband at their kid’s wedding. He thought he’d wanted that all with Peggy but … but then he’d met Tony and he knew that what he once considered love was really fuzzy hope and serious attraction and his world turned upside down.

He hadn’t realized the opposite of hate wasn’t love but indifference until Tony’s snark and well-hidden kindness crept into his soul and made a home there. They snarked and sparred and outright fought and yet…

And yet this is what love looked like. The unrequited version, anyway.

Tony made a snuffly sound from the couch Steve had carried him to a few hours previous. One of the signals he and JARVIS had agreed upon was that if Tony fell asleep on a hard surface - the workbench, the toilet (happened twice), DUM-E (Steve still couldn’t figure out how), etc. - Steve would be summoned to carry him to the lab sofa.

“Steve,” Tony said on a yawn, “what are you doing here?”

The same partial truth as always fell out of his lips. “JARVIS was worried about you crushing the reactor in the position you fell asleep in. So he paged those of us who were awake to come and shift you to the couch.”

“Why is it always you?” Tony murmured, at a volume that indicated he meant it as a musing and not a question. Louder, he continued, “how long was I out?”

“About four hours, Sir,” JARVIS answered.

“Well, that’ll do,” Tony said as he righted himself. He ran his hands through his hair and tousled it even more, causing Steve to swallow a whimper. This was his absolute favorite physical version of Tony he’d seen so far. Rumpled, soft, a little crusty from forgetting to shower but not outright offensive, and not quite awake enough to have that always-on-the-verge-of-a-panic-attack energy he had but concealed so well.

“Tony, you should eat before you-”

“I’ll get a smoothie,” Tony waved Steve off. But as he rose to his feet, he wobbled a little. “Okay, maybe some protein.”

“Advisable, Sir.” JARVIS’ tone was dry and Steve snorted in reflex.

“Queens Community College,” Tony snapped lovingly. “I’ll send you home with Peter.”

“I tremor in my circuit boards.”

“I think I saw a frittata in the fridge upstairs,” Steve said easily, as though he hadn’t made it expressly for this purpose while Tony was sleeping. “Wanna eat?”

“You know,” Tony said by way of an answer, “I’d get so much more done if this meatsack was self-sufficient.”

“Add it to the list,” Steve replied. “Just fix Sam’s wings first because he’s getting pissy that Buck got the arm upgrade.”

“Buckaroo’s plates were freezing. Eagle Eye Cherry just wants snappier springs,” Tony snorted as they got into the elevator.

“Be that as it may,” Steve said with a soft smile and a barely concealed urge to run his fingers through Tony’s hair, “food and then team updates for two hours before I’m sending you back to bed.”

“I’m sorry? I must have misheard you. I just woke up.”

“From a four-hour nap after a nineteen hour binge that you started after a mission that was begun during a fundraiser,” Steve recounted. “Food, then bed, then improving meatsacks and other sundry things.”

Tony cast a look at Steve that Steve knew Tony meant as threatening, it just never read that way to Steve. “I hate you.”

“Yup, but your endocrine system doesn’t.”

“Why does it get a say? Mutiny, I tell you, mutiny via meatsack.”

Steve didn’t reply because the doors to the elevator slid open on the common floor and they walked in on Sam, Bucky, and Nat having a knife-throwing contest in the hallway.

“Bullseye or you’re buying dinner, Wilson,” Nat replied and Steve heard the schwing of the metal cutting through the air. His eyes followed the knife as it expertly sank into the dart board.

“JARVIS,” Steve started.

“Already ordered. I’ve asked Amazon to add a dart-board to our Subscribe and Save purchases.”

“For the best.”

“I thought so, Captain.”

* * *

“He has no idea,” Bucky said to Steve when they were running one morning. “I mean, like zero clue. Like, less than zero of a clue.”

“I’m fine with that,” Steve said.

“Bullshit,” Bucky replied. “You’re settling for that.”

Steve sighed heavily. “Buck, mind your own.”

“No,” Bucky said, shaking his head and messing with his hair. Steve could see him out of the corner of his eye as they rounded the back loop of the trail around the Compound. Another 1/8th of a mile and they’d be back in sight of the main buildings and he’d feel a little more comfortable than he did when the building was out of sight.

Oh who was he kidding. He was anxious the minute Tony was out of contact - either visual or audio.

“I’m not shutting my gob because I’m tired of the moping, Steven. If you mother could see -”

“My mother would have a heart attack if she even knew I was sniffing around a fella, so let’s leave Sarah out of this, hm?”

Bucky was quiet. “I think you’re wrong. She always knew about Harold and Sal at the end of the hall.”

“Those were strangers.”

“Pal, your ma just wanted you alive and happy. I think if she found out you lived to see 20, she would have done a jig every day for the rest of her life, so let’s focus on part two of her deepest wish okay?”

“Buck, I’m not an idiot and I don’t want to hear your sass. He doesn’t do picket fences or adopted pets or children, and that’s what I want. I want him, and I want all the things he doesn’t want.”

“How do you know?”

That brought Steve up short and he actually stopped in his tracks. “Because it’s Tony,” he said slowly.

Bucky started stretching because even super solider muscles get cramped at sudden stops sometimes as he laughed embarrassingly loudly for Steve’s comfort.

“Buck, come on.”

“No, few more…” Bucky wheezed.

“Buck.”

“Oh, that’s rich, that is a good one,” Bucky said, finally standing all the way back up and wiping tears from his eyes. “Tony Stark, who adopts every living creature under the age of 18, who has built not one, but two homes for his family, that Tony Stark doesn’t want a happily ever after straight out of fucking Hallmark? And he doesn’t want one with you? The man he sits next to on every single movie night? I thought he was being a bit of a turd, to be honest, but if you’re serious then... ”

Bucky started laughing again as he resumed running. “All this time I thought you actually checked with him and this was some sort of … good god, Steven Grant Rogers, man the fuck up and ask him out.”

In the two years, one hundred and thirty-four days, and approximately nine hours that Steve had been in love with Tony, what Bucky just said had never occurred to him. He finished their run in a daze - recalculating all of his assumptions. By the time they reached the locker room, Bucky rounded on him. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Bucky pressed their foreheads together.

“What’s the plan, Cap?”

“If what you say is right-”

“- it is. Literally everyone sees this but you.”

“- then it’s possible he just doesn't know how I feel.”

“Ding ding ding,” Bucky said with a grin. “You gonna tell him? Your boy isn’t great at subtle.”

“I thought all along he just tolerated this because he knew-”

“Because he’s a mind reader? Jesus, Steve, you’re a mess.”

“But before I tell him, I gotta show him,” Steve finished resolutely. “Words, he gets those a lot from a lot of people. Obie gave him words, Ty gave him words, Howard, etcetera. So when I do the words, I want him to have data to confirm the words.”

“Oh Lord Jesus, his mother, and all the saints, you are going to woo him, aren’t you.”

Steve’s grin bordered on feral. “Why yes, Buck. I believe I am.”

* * *

“Tony,” Steve said, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything, Capsicle, except me never using that nickname again. We covered that in the Nickname Agreement of 2015 and this is my one veto of your veto. I treasure it. But anything else? Yours.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “JARVIS, what number are we on?”

“Sir has consumed four cups of double espresso,” JARVIS replied.

“What are you two -” Tony’s eyes narrowed. “It’s coffee. I’m allowed coffee.”

Steve pursed his lips. “I’m not trying to nag, I swear, it’s just that Doctor Albertson -”

“Is a quack.”

“- is one of the world’s leading cardiologists and he said -”

“You know, your tits are the wrong size for your dramatic impersonation of my mother,” Tony snapped. “And your accent needs work, too.”

Steve opened and shut his mouth. “I worry. That’s all. I worry because I care.”

“Because you’re the mother hen of the team, Rogers, I get it,” Tony said and went back to flicking through the holograms floating before him.

Steve took a breath, gave himself a small pep talk, and grabbed one of Tony’s wrists. When deep brown eyes met his, Steve spoke firmly, but softly. “No, because you matter to me and I worry. I worry that it’s been so long since you had someone to mind you who wasn’t hardwired to do so or wasn’t named Pepper or Rhodey that you’ve forgotten what this feels like. You matter to me, I care about you, and I worry when you forget you’re a human. Can you please drink something other than caffeine?”

Tony blinked a few times. “Was that what you came down here to ask me?”

“No,” Steve said, not letting go of Tony’s wrist. “I came down to ask if you could help me build some software to organize my Pop Culture Catch-Up list now that Bucky and I are adding things from Wakanda to it.”

Tony’s eyes lit up. “Why didn’t I think of that before? It’s perfect, I can build an app that goes on all of our phones and you can either ping us to ask a question or we can add something to a list and explain, and, oh this is going to be fun.”

Steve dropped Tony’s wrist and put his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn’t grab anything else.

“JARVIS? New file. Open a blank doc and let’s start with Python.”

Tony continued to talk, but Steve knew Tony would quickly forget he was even in the room and he started to make his way to the elevator. He was stopped when Tony called his name.

“What’s with the Great Escape? You asked for this, now I gotta make sure it’s what you want. Order some pizza, J, Capsaicin and I have some work to do.”

“That nickname is on my veto list, too,” Steve said.

“What? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over all the awesome I’m about to do for you. What was that?”

Steve simply chuckled and shook his head. “I said go fuck yourself, Stark.”

“Language, Cap,” Tony gasped and drew his hand over his heart like a fainting damsel. “You shock me with such vulgarity.”

“You like it,” Steve flirted back.

A look passed over Tony’s face that hinted to Steve that Tony may understand what he was doing here. “You know, Steve, I think I do.”

* * *

“Captain.”

“What? I’m up, I’m up.” Steve jarred himself out of a sound sleep. “What's going on, JARVIS?”

“Sir has returned from the gala.”

There was something in JARVIS’ tone that confirmed Steve’s worst nightmare. Twitter had blown up a few hours earlier with the news that Ty and Sunset had shown up to the Met Gala as a couple. Tony had zero feelings for either any more and Steve knew it, but it was more than each of them were assholes and liked to do whatever they could to make Tony feel small.

Two failed missions - including one where they didn’t get to a kidnapped kid in time - and a lot of problems with upgrades to Bucky’s arm recently meant that Tony was already skating on thin emotional ice. Steve had gotten a text from Pepper when she’d put him in the limo, but the traffic from Albany must have been worse than anticipated because Steve had expected Tony an hour ago.

He roused himself from bed and pulled on sweatpants. “Where is he?”

“Garage, Captain. Mr. Hogan has requested your assistance.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as he got in the elevator. “How drunk is he?”

“I don’t have full capability of a breathalyzer,” JARVIS replied, “but I’d venture to say the answer is ‘very’.”

“Fuck,” Steve cursed.

“Indeed,” JARVIS agreed.

Steve spent the two minute elevator ride processing the thoughts ricocheting through his head. Anything south of alcohol poisoning, he could handle physically, but when Tony got drunk…

When Tony got drunk he said things. Things that made Steve hope. Things that made Steve yearn. Things that fucked with Steve’s brain for a long damn time.

“Happy,” Steve said as soon as the doors opened. “Where -”

“Still in the car. He’s passed out, but he threw up a little on the drive and I think he may need-”

“DO I HEAR A SCHTEEB?”

“- a shower,” Happy finished with a sigh.

“Yeah, Tony,” Steve said with a slightly raised voice. “I’m here.”

“Schteeb, I’m very tired.”

“I’m sure you are, Tony,” Steve said as he leveraged himself against the car to hoist Tony out of the backseat. “Are you too tired to walk?”

A whimper sounded and Steve’s heart dropped a little. “I’m not sleepy tired, I am existentially exhausted.”

“Only you would struggle with my name and nail ‘existentially’,” Steve muttered. “I think you should be, Tony. You always have a lot on your plate.” He maneuvered Tony into a bridal carry - begging his libido to remember how much he valued consent and not to get too excited - and nodded to Happy that he’d take it from here.

“I do,” Tony said. “I really do. You do, too, Schteeb. And you never complain. Why is that?”

“What’s there to complain about?” Steve got into the elevator and was thankful JARVIS simply sped them up to the penthouse without question. Steve also knew that the shower would be running softly with warm water so that Steve could help clean Tony up without any fear of Tony fully waking up and trying to go back to the workshop.

This wasn’t their first rodeo.

Tony wasn’t a frequent binge drinker any more, and never in public. Since the Avengers, he’d limited himself to two drinks at any public function and then subtly switched to tonic water. A few reporters had caught onto it - Tony was famous for his whiskey tastes, not his vodka or gin ones - so he’d bought shares in some small Irish gin distilleries and knocked people off the scent.

But if the night was hard, he’d crawl back into the limo and have Happy drive aimlessly while he cracked open a Glenlivet and quietly drank himself into emotional numbness. So tonight must have been hard.

“There’s lots to complain about,” Tony muttered and yet still managed to sound dramatic. “But let’s start with this one - why don’t you date, ever?”

Steve nearly dropped Tony.

“Buckskin said you were awkward as fuck before and kinda angry all the time and you’re not those things now,” Tony reasoned. “Wait, unless you’re angry like Bruce is and you’ve gone all zen on me and whoops I lost where I was going, but your eyes are so pretty, and you’re so very Schteeb and so why. I’m very smart and I can’t figure it out.”

“No real reason, Tony,” Steve said, fighting to keep his voice even as the elevator doors opened on the penthouse and he walked steadily towards the bathroom.

“You never do anything without a reshion,” Tony slurred as Steve sat him on the bench in the shower and started unbuttoning his shirt. Tony batted him away sloppily. “I can do it.”

“Are you sure? You said that -”

“I’m fine,” Tony said firmly and then pointed to the door. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Tell Schteeb I’m fine.”

“I’ll just wait outside in case you need anything, okay?” Steve responded. This piece of the song and dance was also familiar.

“Shuit yourself,” Tony slurred slightly.

While Tony washed off the vomit and sweat, Steve knew JARVIS had an eye on him. He fetched water, some Advil, a plate of lightly salted Triscuits, and Tony’s personal StarkPad and placed them all on Tony’s bedside table. He then reached to fluff the pillows and then stopped himself.

“You’re getting ridiculous, Rogers.”

He hovered slightly awkwardly until he heard the shower water turn off and waited to make sure he didn’t hear a boom if Tony fell. He didn’t, but he did hear muffled cursing which meant Tony was wrestling himself into his pajamas but his fine motor skills weren’t up to the task. Steve eased open the door to find Tony’s head through an armhole of the…

Of Steve’s shirt, which had gone missing from the laundry last week.

And which Tony apparently slept in.

Steve’s mind ground to a halt at that.

“Schteeb, I’m lost in a shirt. Are you there? I’m lost in your shirt. You should-” and Tony stopped talking and started giggling and Steve knew it was time to just get the genius in bed.

He helped Tony put the shirt on correctly and guided the stumbling man to where he could faceplant on the bed. He shuffled Tony up towards the pillow and then started to head out. Tony grabbed his wrist.

“Steve,” Tony said softly, sounding far too sober for Steve’s anxiety level, “thank you. I never… I don’t know why I get special Steve Rogers treatment, but thank you.”

Steve turned and looked into Tony’s eyes - still glassy with inebriation - and took a risk before he could stop himself. “You’re welcome, Tony. It’s because I love you. I’m trying to tell you that I love you with how I treat you. I love you, you hear me?”

Tony blinked a few times and grinned. “I wondered. You’re nuts because no one loves me, but I wondered. I do too, love you, I mean. Night, Schteeb.”

Tony abruptly dropped Steve’s wrist and began to snore.

“So, that’s that, then,” Steve whispered to himself.

“Captain, if I may,” JARVIS started as soon as Steve was back in the elevator, heading to his floor.

“Of course, JARVIS.”

“I believe vino is not the only veritas serum.”

Steve coughed out a laugh. “I know, that’s what makes me sad.”

“Keep at him, Captain.”

* * *

“I wondered if you’d be here.”

Steve looked away from the carburetor he was trying to make behave to see Tony standing in the garage. “I’m just -”

“You’re just antsy as fuck because there hasn’t been a mission and there has been a blizzard. I’ve met you, Capsicle,” Tony said with a twinkle in his eye.

It had been fifteen days since Tony’s drunken confession and he’d given Steve absolutely no signs of remembering the evening. Steve had kept up his steady stream of wooing techniques - fresh coffee delivered to the workshop at JARVIS-approved intervals, offering foot rubs during team movie nights, heading to three public appearances that Tony did not want to do so Steve took them instead and dragged Bucky and Sam with him - but Tony had said nothing.

“And you’ve only sent me sixteen videos implying that Betsy’s carburetor isn’t tuned right, so I thought I’d try my hand,” Steve replied and went back to it.

Tony muttered something that Steve barely picked up, but he’d learned whenever someone talked that softly, they’d forgotten he had enhanced hearing and he found it polite to not ask them to speak up.

Tony grabbed something from the workbench and sat down next to Steve. Turns out it was a handful of float needles, which is exactly what Steve was going to need next. He could hear Tony take breaths as though he was going to start talking, but he never did.

For seventeen entire minutes, they sat in silence as Steve fiddled with float needles and Tony watched him.

Steve wasn’t sure who was more uncomfortable - Tony for being silent or himself for being confused.

Finally, he felt Tony shift and the man was on his feet and pacing. “Are you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what, Tony?”

“About why I sleep in your shirt or why you’re who I always have JARVIS call or why Happy has your number and no one else’s -”

“You love me,” Steve said plainly. “I figured that was why. I didn’t need to ask you.”

Tony looked like someone had just told him Newton’s laws had been disproven. “You know?”

Steve nodded and peered at Tony. “Is that a problem?”

“Well, yeah!” Tony yelled and started pacing again, gesturing wildly as he did. “No one wants to be on the loser end of a love confession, Steve, and I thought I was hiding it all pretty well, because I know you and Buckster are just waiting for him to finish BARF so I’ve been -”

“Bucky’s straight.”

Once again, Tony froze. “He’s what?”

“Straight as an arrow, actually. Well, he’s also into men who have become women so I don’t know if that’s a different category, I can’t see why it would be but we struggle sometimes, but women. He really likes women. All women. Currently Nat, if I’m not mistaken, but sometimes I wonder if he’ll make a play for Pepper.”

Tony considered that. “Bucky and Pepper would actually - Wait, no. STEVEN. You are telling me that you and James Barnes are not long lost, star crossed lovers?”

Steve snorted. “I have seen that boy’s dick enough times in my life to confirm I’m not attracted to it, trust me. Between the army and tenement housing, we crossed into sibling territory a long time ago.”

“SO WHY HAVEN’T YOU TOLD ME YOU KNEW?”

Tony was somehow on the verge of tears and Steve wasn’t sure how this conversation had gone from zero to four hundred.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve said and crossed to where Tony was. He cupped Tony’s face in his hand and spoke softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tony blinked rapidly. “Because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. That’s what I do, I just make things -”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted him at the same volume, but with a firm tone. “How are you sure it would?”

Tony didn’t respond for several moments, but finally he closed his eyes and leaned into Steve’s hand a little. “So you and Buck are a no go.”

“Correct.”

“And the dream, the one I have where you rescued me from your shirt and told me you loved me?”

“Not a dream.”

“Why didn’t you say anything,” Tony whispered, his voice quavering just a little.

“Because I was worried you’d put me in the same category as everyone else, so I wanted you to have data. I wanted you to see me love you, to feel it, to experience it. I wanted to feed you, and take care of you, and have your back, and challenge you, and do all the things I do because I love you before I told you,” Steve said, not raising his voice even a eighth of a pitch. “But I do. I love you, Anthony Edward Stark, and I love you with words and with all these other ways so I really hope you believe me.”

Instead of responding, Tony surged up to kiss Steve and Steve took that as a yes.

* * *

“I like this cabin,” Steve said.

“I like that we’re alone,” Tony said.

“I do quite like that the best,” Steve replied and pulled Tony closer to him on the sofa.

They’d rented a cabin somewhere in Maryland that another friend of Tony’s had recommended as a great escape for a long weekend. Outdoor hot-tub, large bed, no TV but full WiFi, and all three meals catered if you wanted them.

Now that Tony knew that one of the ways Steve wooed him was food, he accepted it a lot more easily. When Steve would stop him down in the workshop with a bowl of freshly made pasta or a slice of cake, Tony would hear “I love you” and stop to eat. In return, when Steve was getting frustrated with technology, instead of calling tech support because he was embarrassed to bother Tony, he’d call Tony because that was a way Tony loved Steve. Acts of service, they’d learned, was big for both of them. Words, not really, time they liked but understood their jobs. Gifts, the other love language, was more of a deal they had to negotiate, but acts of service they both got.

And they definitely both got physical touch.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“You,” Steve replied firmly.

Tony snorted. “Besides me.”

“I brought all the fixings to make icebox cake like you’ve been asking about,” Steve said. “And Bucky found his ma’s pie crust recipe in one of his old boxes at the Smithsonian and I think I saw a farmer’s market on the way in. We could try for apples maybe? A fresh apple pie?”

Tony started to drool slightly. “I can live with that.”

“And I could always eat the pie off of you,” Steve said blandly.

“You could, but then I’d be sticky.”

“And then I’d clean you up.”

“I love you,” Tony said quietly.

“I know,” Steve smiled. “Do you know?”

“I do.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the story, I'd love to know! Kudos and comments are life giving. If you're not sure what to say in the comment, know that I take keyboard smashes and emojis as full love. So, if you liked it more than just a kudos, dropping a heart emoji is great and I thank you in advance.
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/betheflame1) or [Tumblr](http://betheflame.tumblr.com) for more on these yahoos. You can also submit prompts and cajole me into writing faster - it usually works. If you're on Discord, I'm definitely there, too, and probably hanging in the [Put on the Suit Stony Server ](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) or the [STB Enthusiasts Stuckony](https://discord.gg/ktXHUb4) one.  
>   
> Oh! And FestiveFerret and I have a [fandom podcast](http://www.podonthesuit.com) if you're so inclined.  
> 


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